Cap's Shield: Versatile in Vibranium
by Qweb
Summary: Five times Steve repurposed his shield to help the Avengers, and one time he needed it as a weapon. Not as Cap-centric as the description might indicate, because Cap keeps loaning the shield to the other Avengers. The stories take place between CA: TWS and Avengers: AOU, when all the nut jobs come out of the woodwork and the Avengers try to fill the void left by the fall of SHIELD.
1. Legolas

_Five times Steve repurposed his shield to help the Avengers, and one time he needed it as a weapon. Not as Cap-centric as the description might indicate, because Cap keeps loaning the shield to the other Avengers. With thanks to my sister Jelsemium for suggesting the word "repurposed."  
The stories take place between CA: TWS and Avengers: AOU when all the nut jobs come out of the woodwork and the Avengers try to fill the void left by the decimation of SHIELD._

* * *

**1\. Legolas**

It was irony that Captain America, the ground fighter, was on the roof with Hawkeye, while Iron Man, the flier, was in the lobby — but irony was an annoying fact of life for the Avengers.

Just as Hawkeye and Cap dropped onto the roof from the quinjet, the enemy drones that had been swarming into the ventilation system zoomed away and plunged over the edge of the roof like a waterfall, targeting a crowd of civilians trying to escape from the building through the main entrance.

The drones zoomed down, through the open lobby door, firing lasers in all directions and leaving wounded and dying people behind them. The crowd trying to get out reversed course, pressing back to get away from the robotic killers, but more drones poured out of the vents and chased panicked civilians down the stairs.

Like deer pursued by wolves, the people were herded into a dead end. One of the ground floor businesses was a bank that offered an illusion of safety. People crowded in and were forced back toward the vault with nowhere to escape. The drones would be able to pick them off like fish in a barrel, killing all the innocent bystanders as well as the scientist from the ninth floor who were the targets of the Drone Master.

But Iron Man chased the drones into the building and stationed himself between the quarry and the killers. He blocked the laser blasts with his titanium alloy body.

Iron Man couldn't get the people out. He couldn't abandon them to chase the fast-moving, remote-controlled drones. All he could do was block the entrance to the vault and desperately call for backup.

Cap and Hawkeye were running down the stairs, preparing to clear drones from each floor, when Tony sent out his SOS.

"I need help!" Tony called. He reported trying to protect 30 people from 20 drones. "My repulsors aren't doing any good. I think I'm just recharging them!" he said with aggravation. "And I can't fire missiles in this enclosed space."

Tony yelped. He could feel the laser hits through his armor. At first they were just pinpricks, but each hit burned away a little of the insulation so the next hit hurt more.

The Avengers could hear pain in his panting voice when Tony said, "Capsicle, Legolas, you'd better hurry up, you're missing the party!"

Instead of hastening his steps, Steve came to a dead stop on the landing, causing Clint to run into him from behind.

"What?" Clint gasped, winded by the impact that Cap hardly noticed.

"Legolas!" Steve exclaimed.

Clint looked blank for half a second, then he looked at the concrete stairs descending in front of him and remembered the movie. His eyes lit with understanding.

Steve offered his shield. "Can you do it?" he asked anxiously.

"I can shoot targets blindfolded while standing up on a galloping horse," the former circus performer replied.

"Works for me," Steve said. He slid the shield down the stairs and Clint jumped on it. He wobbled just a moment, then caught his balance. He stood forward on the shield but leaned back to keep the edge from catching and then Hawkeye surfed down the stairs.

Bouncing down the concrete stairs, the shield made a holy racket, like a crowd of angels beating on cymbals. The echoing noise confused Iron Man but also distracted the sensors of the circling drones.

The circus-trained acrobat almost lost his balance when Cap plummeted past, plunging down the center of the stairwell. Steve jumped from side to side, bounding off the metal railings, dropping four landings at a time.

The captain alighted by the lobby door just as the archer surfed around the last landing. Steve yanked the open the door with an "after you" gesture that made Clint grin even as he raised his bow. Hawkeye skidded into the marble-floored lobby, firing arrows as fast as he could while the shield rotated on the slick floor. The solid projectiles succeeded where the repulsors blasts had failed. Arrows punctured the drones, causing them to short out and drop.

Clint kicked the shield loose, sending it ricocheting off the wall. It cut through a cluster of drones before Steve reached out to catch it. Cap planted himself in the doorway of the vault, using his shield to protect the civilians, freeing Tony to take his revenge on the drones. Iron Man rocketed out, fists clenched, smashing through the drones vindictively. Between his fists and Clint's arrows, Steve only had to block one laser blast before the drones were down to two.

Iron Man and Hawkeye turned on the last pair, but the drones dropped out of the air before either could strike.

"Drone Master is neutralized," Black Widow reported over the comms.

"Getting a little slow in your old age, aren't you?" Tony snapped.

Silence greeted his angry words. Steve and Clint stared with wide eyes. No one could believe he'd just insulted Natasha. That was scarier than the drones.

* * *

Later, the two came face to face in Avengers Tower when Stark was removing his armor. Natasha's angry words died when she saw Tony sported a dozen raw, red burns, including one perilously close to his left eye.

For his part, Tony saw a gash in the right hip of Natasha's cat suit and another on her right arm. There was a bruise on her forehead and a hunk of hair had been singed.

The two Avengers quieted seeing the damage each had taken.

"I'm sorry I took so long," Natasha said graciously.

"I shouldn't have snapped," Tony answered. "You weren't the one who was slacking off. Cap never even threw his shield!"

Relieved that a crisis had been averted, Steve smiled. "I couldn't. I loaned it to Clint."

"You had it?" Natasha asked in surprise. "What did you do with it?"

"I surfed down the stairs, like Legolas in the movie," Clint said proudly.

"Legolas!" Tony exclaimed.

"Yeah, Tony inspired me," Clint said with a wink. "He's a genius you know."

Tony was speechless. Natasha laughed. Clint and Steve high-fived.

"Thanks for the loaner, Cap," Clint said.

"See if I loan you my shield again," Steve mock growled. "You brought it back scratched!"

He held up the shield and it was true — the bouncing, scraping journey down the concrete stairs had scraped off all the paint in the middle. There was only a faint trace of the star points.

"Uh, I have my Dad's formula for paint that bonds to vibranium," Tony offered.

The other three Avengers shared a glance and a nod, and Tony was forgiven for his outburst. Clint threw his arm around Iron Man's shoulders.

"Excellent idea," he enthused. "You are a genius!"

**1\. Cap's shield as a surfboard.**

* * *

_I have tried to write "five times" stories before, but they didn't work out. (One was Team chapter "Like Fathers, Like Sons" and one became the story "Why Shouldn't They Be Friends?")  
These six chapters will take us past "Avengers: Age of Ultron," then we'll see where the muse goes. _


	2. Ponies

_A/N: One of my favorite toys as a kid was a plastic rhinoceros with the clever name, Rhino. I apologize to his memory._

* * *

**2\. Ponies**

"I feel bad shooting them," Clint Barton commented to the woman standing at his back. "Rhinos are endangered species, you know."

"The only endangered species here is us if you don't shoot!" Natasha Romanoff argued.

Her bullets had proven ineffective against the mutated, armored beasts that had octopus tentacles sprouting from their backs and sparking electrodes protruding from the center of their foreheads. She fired, precisely hitting one beady, bloodshot eye. The creature roared in pain, shook its head and pivoted toward Natasha.

Clint planted an exploding arrow in the tormented creature's chest and it finally went down.

"Can't let these things breed anyway," Tony Stark commented, dodging a tentacle whipping past. "They'd ruin the gene pool."

His repulsors blast threw the creature into the air. With a roar, Hulk grabbed the monster and spiked it into the hard-packed dirt.

"Plus, they're insane," Steve Rogers reminded Tony.

The Avengers had tried to round up and protect the science experiments, but the tentacled rhinos had smashed out of the corral and attacked in a frenzy, throwing Iron Man through a shed and charging Bruce Banner, which brought out the Hulk, who engaged in a battle royal with three of the angry beasts.

Steve waited patiently and, at the last second, dove to one side. The final rhinoceros charged past, crashing straight through the door of the farmhouse/mad scientist's laboratory.

From inside came shrieks of fear, deafening crashing noises and then one shrill scream of agony that cut off abruptly with a wet, sickening gurgle. The rhino beast staggered back out the shattered door with a dead man dangling from one tentacle and a wreath of computer parts around its neck. Blood was spurting from a gash in its throat. It turned its mad eyes on Cap, who slammed it in the face with his shield. The wounded creature keeled over and died.

* * *

The Avengers took control of the laboratory/farm. They pried loose the body of the mad geneticist who had been killed by his own insane creation. Iron Man began scanning the computers for any more surprises, while Black Widow, Hawkeye and Captain America restrained the henchmen who survived the berserk mutant rhino.

Snorting angrily, Hulk had wandered outside to explore the other farm buildings, looking for more mutant rhinos. Suddenly the Hulk's sullen muttering turned to roars of distress.

The Avengers snapped to attention. Cap settled his shield on his arm and the agents drew their weapons. Iron Man hovered overhead while the others formed up in a triangle with Cap at point. They moved quickly but cautiously to see what trouble Hulk had found, but Hulk came pounding back to them, shouting.

"Did he say …?" Natasha asked, puzzled.

"Am I hearing what I think I'm hearing?" Tony contributed.

Steve shook his head in confusion as Clint summed up, "He said 'ponies.' Hulk is yelling about ponies."

"Well, knowing this lunatic, they probably have poisonous fangs," Tony said sardonically.

"Let's be careful," Steve instructed unnecessarily. "We're coming, Hulk. Show us what you found."

Hulk looked anxious, not angry. "Ponies," he implored hoarsely. It was undeniably "ponies." "Help ponies. Sick," the big guy begged.

"We'll do what we can," Cap reassured, patting a green knee as he moved toward the barn.

Hulk lumbered to the open barn door. The Avengers followed and were stricken motionless by the sight.

"Well, they're not actually ponies," said Clint, the former circus performer. "They're miniature horses."

"What's the difference?" Tony asked curiously.

"It's a point of hot debate in the equine breeding world, but basically it's the proportions." Clint was moving into the dank, dim space to check out the sick and listless creatures. As they got closer, the Avengers could see more.

"Where do wings fit in the debate?" Steve asked.

"Ponies with wings!" Natasha said in amazement.

"Ponies sick!" Hulk insisted.

"Yes, they are," Clint agreed.

Six small equines lay listlessly in damp and dirty straw in a sturdy pen. They were thin, with ribs showing, and looked scruffy with matted hair and limp, bedraggled wings sprouting from their shoulders. As a boy, Clint had taken care of circus livestock, including horses. His quick scan of the overcrowded pen showed him one immediate problem.

"They're dehydrated and half-starved," he said.

He picked up a bucket and saw the bottom was nearly rusted through. He gingerly stepped through the pen, getting little response from the apathetic horses. He checked the cracked wooden watering trough, then kicked it lightly, making a big dent in the rotted side.

"We need water," he said, ruffling his hair in frustration.

"On it," Cap replied. He loped out of the building toward a faucet he'd noticed.

"Tony, can you figure out what was going on here?" Clint asked.

"Already working on it," Tony answered. "But the computer files are as disorganized as that nut's brain was."

Clint knelt in the disgusting straw and began checking each horse. If they hadn't been in such bad shape, they would be pretty, he thought. They were cute mini-horses with red-brown coats, dark manes and tails and mottled brown wings that looked like they belonged on a hawk. But the wings were drooping and unpreened and the horses' coats were filthy. Their eyes were dull and uncaring when Clint handled them.

But they showed some life when Steve came back. Cap carried his shield upturned on the palm of his hand like a waiter in a particularly patriotic restaurant. A little water sloshed over the edges of the shield/bowl. When the horses smelled it, they began to struggle to their feet and make little noises of excitement.

Clint and Natasha steadied the weaker ones, pulling them back to make room for the circular watering trough Cap set in the middle of the pen. He joined the agents in supporting and restraining the ponies, as Hulk insistently called them, so they wouldn't tip the shield and spill the water.

"Don't let them have too much water or they'll founder," Clint warned.

"Founder?" Tony asked.

"It means they'll get sick, Tony," Steve said. Cap steadied the small horses with a familiarity that surprised Hawkeye.

"Didn't think a city boy like you would know much about horses, Steve," Clint said.

"When I was a child, there were still as many horses in Brooklyn as cars, at least in my part. Bucky and I used to earn pocket change holding the heads of horses while people mounted or climbed in or out of their carriages. The speakeasy two blocks over was particularly good for tips. Sometimes the drunks would scatter whole silver dollars on the ground. Good thing the horses knew their own way home mostly."

"Wouldn't think a little guy like you could handle a big horse," Tony commented, meaning no insult.

Steve nodded. "It wasn't that the horses were wild, but one wrong step just as you're putting a foot on the ground could dump you in the dirt. I just had to keep them still for that one crucial moment."

"Always the hero," Natasha teased.

One small pony seemed too weak to get to her feet. Hulk hovered beside her in distress, as she strained toward the water, whinnying pitifully.

Iron Man gently lifted the mare onto Hulk's hand and instructed him to hold her over the water so she could reach it. The big guy looked delighted when the mare got her nose in the water and began slurping it up.

"Have you figured out what's the deal with the winged horses, Tony?" Clint asked. "They don't look as menacing as crazy rhinos with tentacles."

"Looney Luckenbill wanted to breed the horses up to full size so he could ride them — primarily for the cool factor, as far as I can tell," Tony answered, interpreting the computer files.

"I'm sure he would have impressed all the 9-year-old girls," Natasha said dryly.

"He actually solved the gene question." Tony sounded impressed. "The wings bred true. The larger female with the star is the offspring of two of the others. But he didn't solve the problem of the hollow bones."

"They're way too heavy to fly," Clint agreed. He'd had his hands on all of them when he was checking for injuries. The ponies had sturdy bones and muscles that would be strong though they were wasted at the moment.

"So Unluckenbill considered the ponies a dead end, but, hey, waste not, want not when it comes to experimental, mutated genetic material. He kept them alive and they were fairly well treated up until about a month ago when he got caught up in his scheme to use his rhinos to rob banks, then these guys were neglected."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "So stupid. People would pay thousands for pretty winged ponies like these. They'd be status symbol pets."

"And he could have sold them legally," Steve added, shaking his head at the folly of criminals.

Iron Man twisted his gauntlet in a maybe yes, maybe no gesture. "There was quite a bit of illegality involved in the original experiments. Stolen equipment and livestock, lack of a license. I think he was right that trying to sell the animals would have brought a jail sentence."

"So instead gave himself a death sentence, creating mutant rhinos that killed him." Steve shook his head again.

"Well, I know a circus that would treasure these little guys," Clint said, stroking one of the ponies. "They would be the darlings of every show."

"And the gift shop," Tony added sardonically, but with a smile.

"They'll have plushy stuffed dolls in their honor," Natasha said.

"Just like us," Steve said wryly.

"OK, we will make it so," Tony said in his best Patrick Stewart impression.

When Clint judged the animals had had as much water as was safe, Cap took back his shield and tipped it on end to let the remaining water drain out.

"Food next?" Natasha suggested. She pointed to a bag of grain in the loft. Hulk immediately grabbed it and brought it down.

"It would be better to make a mash with it — a warm porridge," Clint explained.

"We're not cooking in my shield!" Cap protested when everyone looked his way, but Hulk gave him the biggest, saddest pouty face Steve had ever seen. "Fine," Cap grumbled. He took the straps off so they wouldn't get icky, then fetched more water. Clint mixed up a mash with the oats, water, a handful of salt and a jar of molasses. Steve made a face at the sticky mess, but didn't say anything and he smiled when the horses got excited as Tony used lasers to warm up the food.

The ponies were all on their feet now. They crowded around the red, white and blue feeding trough while the Avengers steadied it to keep the anxious beasts from spilling the food.

"Ponies better?" Hulk said hopefully.

"Yes, they're feeling better," Clint agreed. "But they could use a doctor to look at them," he hinted broadly.

"Ponies need Banner?"

"Yes, please," Natasha said.

Hulk grunted agreement. He stroked a pony's mane with a finger as large as the animal's head, then he turned his back and began to shrink back to his normal self.

Steve brought Bruce's clothes. Without turning around, the scientist began to dress. He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Was there something about horses?" he asked.

"Ponies," Tony said gleefully, echoing Hulk's word.

"Ponies with wings," Natasha added.

Bruce tucked his shirt in his pants and turned around. With a little food and water, the miniature horses already looked better. Four of them were on their feet moving around and nibbling at stray bits of dry straw. The other two were sleeping soundly.

Bruce was charmed. "They're adorable."

"Yeah, Hulk liked them, too. He found them here, dehydrated and half-starved. He was really worried about them. Didn't know he was such a pony fan," Tony said in an offhand way that didn't match the keen gaze he directed at Banner.

Bruce flushed.

"Bruce, are you a Brony?" Tony crowed.

"A 'Brony'?" Steve asked, puzzled.

"There's a cartoon called 'My Little Pony'," Natasha explained clinically. "It's aimed at little girls, but there are a lot of guys who like it, too — or there wouldn't be a word for a 'bro' who likes 'My Little Pony'."

"Hulk likes it," Bruce admitted, heartened by Natasha's support. "He was grumbling in my head one day. I thought I was going to have an incident, but his attention was caught by an episode of 'My Little Pony' that someone was watching in the TV room." He looked pointedly at Clint.

The archer grinned, unfazed. He loved animation. Cartoons had been banned in his house when he was a child. Now he watched them whenever he could — "My Little Pony," "GI Joe," "Mickey Mouse," whatever.

"I knew you were lurking in the back," Clint told Bruce.

"Anyway, the show calmed the other guy right down, so I watch it when he seems agitated," Bruce said. "And the friendship theme appeals to me," he admitted. "I never had many friends." He looked around at the Avengers. "Until now."

* * *

After Bruce checked the miniature horses for illness or injury and Tony and Jarvis raided the computer files, the authorities came to take charge of the henchmen and the crime scene. But the Avengers personally took charge of the miniature horses, herding or carrying them to Tony's personal quinjet. The team would look after the little horses until Clint could contact his trusted circus friends.

The police tried to argue, but Tony wasn't budging an inch. (Sometimes Tony really missed SHIELD, which understood about mutants and mad scientists.)

"The rhinos are evidence," Tony said firmly. "These little guys are just victims."

"If anyone objects, they'll have to argue with the Hulk," Steve pointed out, carrying one of the weakest horses to the jet.

"So I doubt anyone will object," Natasha said dryly, looking directly at a police officer blocking her path. The man wisely moved.

Bruce's eyes glinted green for a microsecond, then he shook the anger away. "Yeah, the other guy has dibs on these horses."

"Hulk's little ponies," Tony smirked.

**2\. Cap's shield as a feeding trough**

* * *

_A/N: This all started with a mental image of Hulk begging the others to help the "ponies."_


	3. Dig

_A/N: Cap is hardly in this one at all. This is mostly Tony's story._

* * *

**3\. Dig**

"Stark!"

Confused by a barrage of false signals, Iron Man's sensors failed to detect what Thor's eyes saw plainly. Iron Man spun at the thunder god's bellow and saw two small, screaming children flying toward him on a ballistic trajectory. The Avenger quickly matched speed and caught one frightened child under each arm, then Tony whirled on his repulsors to see why Thor was throwing children, only to see that Thor was also throwing Mjolnir. Iron Man jinked left and the hammer shot past, causing Tony to spin again to see where it was going.

He was going to need Dramamine, if this kept up, he thought.

Tony's eyes widened behind his face plate and he fired his boot jets at full blast to escape the danger he'd finally had a chance to notice.

Mjolnir flew on an intercept course toward three incoming air-to-ground missiles.

Clutching two whimpering kids, Iron Man darted for safety, frantically whirling into the cover of a solidly built hotel, just as the hammer struck the lead missile. It exploded, taking out the other two in a blast that thundered down the street like a hurricane. Citizens fled for cover, but the Asgardian stood fast, protecting the children's grandmother with his powerful frame. He held her behind him and faced the gale. She clung with one hand to her walker and with the other to a brawny Asgardian arm.

The blast dispersed and Thor turned to help the old woman. Then, through the dissipating cloud of smoke came a fourth missile. It hit the building above the pair. Thor threw himself over the woman as bricks rained down on them. The building shivered, then slumped in an avalanche of bricks that covered the two.

With an inarticulate roar of rage, Tony shoved the children into the safety of a doorway and rocketed toward the pair of helicopter gunships that were moving in for a shot at city hall now that they'd taken down an Avenger. Iron Man didn't bother with his own missiles or his repulsor rays. He shot toward the leading copter faster than its guns could track and ripped the rotor clean off. Then he threw the rotor at the second copter, tearing its tail off. Both gunships dropped into a wisely deserted parking lot. They lay crushed and smoking on a pile of crumpled grocery carts.

Sensors and eyes showing no other enemies, Tony zoomed back to where Thor had disappeared.

"Still reading two heat signatures," Jarvis reported, reassuring Tony slightly. "But the graphic showed Thor bending under a great weight with the woman crouched beneath him.

The Asgardian might be able to break free on his own, certainly he could if he called Mjolnir to him, but there was no telling how the debris would fly. Tony realized Thor was choosing to protect the woman and trusting his teammate to free them both.

For the same reason, Tony couldn't just blast the debris away. He had to dig carefully and two hands, even armor gauntleted hands, could only shift a few bricks at a time.

Wishing for a backhoe, Tony heard a motorcycle slide to a halt behind him. Then Captain America was at his side, offering his shield.

"Here, we can shovel with this, but you'll have to guide it. I can't tell where Thor is," Cap said.

Tony grabbed one side. Iron Man armor and Super Soldier muscles worked in tandem to heave away mounds of debris.

"What happened? You take the scenic route?" In his anxiety, Tony spoke angrily, then regretted it immediately.

But Steve understood. "It's only been ten minutes since we got the alert," he reminded his friend.

Ten minutes since the Avengers got word of an unspecified attack on city hall where a foreign dignitary was visiting.

"My bike can't fly like you and Thor can," Steve said, but it was faster through traffic than Clint's van.

"Sorry," Tony said weakly. "It's been a stressful morning."

"I can see that."

"Hey, how'd you know I needed a shovel?"

Despite the tense situation, Steve's mouth quirked in a grin. "You've been reporting the action the whole time. You talk a lot when you're upset."

"He talks a lot all the time." Clint's voice came over the comms. "We're almost there. Couldn't find a backhoe, but I did find a bulldozer."

The machine rose into sight, climbing over a mound of rubble. Hawkeye was at the controls. Black Widow dropped off to check the crashed helicopters for survivors.

"Hold off on the bulldozer," Tony instructed. "We're almost there. Dig here, Cap. And then, here!"

Iron Man aimed the shield precisely and he and Cap drove it home, scooping away buckets of debris and revealing a pair of bent shoulders in Asgardian armor.

Cap and Iron Man worked by hand then, picking and tossing bricks until Thor could raise his dust-drenched head, though the thunder god did not move farther.

"Greetings, my friends," Thor said, spitting dust from his lips. "I regret I lost my communications device, but we were heartened by the sound of your labors. Isn't that right, Gladys?"

"Yes, Mr. Thor," came a weak but game reply from the protective cave formed by the Asgardian's bent body. "We knew Iron Man would rescue us."

Now that Steve had a fix on the two survivors, he could chop down with his shield and pull away the rubble at Thor's side, revealing the old woman.

"Allow me to help you up, ma'am," Steve said politely.

"Thank you, captain," she said with dignity, despite needing to be carried away from the rubble. "I think you were a little late to this party, young man," she said severely, but with a twinkle in her eye.

"Yes, ma'am," Steve agreed. "Sometimes I wish I could fly, but I've already been blessed with so much."

"It would be a little greedy," the woman admitted.

When she and Cap were safely out of range, Thor called his hammer and burst from the debris, cut and bruised but generally intact.

"Thank you, Anthony. I could not have borne the weight much longer, but I had faith that you would dig me out."

"More than I did, pal," Tony confessed. "But I tell you, I couldn't have done it without the help of a red, white and blue shovel."

**3\. Cap's shield as a shovel**

* * *

_A/N: I can picture Tony spinning back and forth in mid-air as things come flying from each side._


	4. Snow

_A/N: This is my favorite, which is probably why it got carried away. It's four times as long as the previous chapter. Enjoy._

* * *

**4\. Snow**

Black Widow and Captain America entered the Hydra facility separately. The plan was for Cap to make a distraction while Natasha, wearing glasses and the white pants and navy suit jacket of a Hydra clerk, carried a clipboard casually through the facility to the computer center, where she would download their info onto a thumb drive.

That plan collapsed within minutes, when Natasha ran into someone who knew her.

Harmon Bowlez had been one of the most arrogant SHIELD agents Natasha had known. She had been almost glad to know he'd been Hydra all along.

But she was not happy to see him now.

"That's the Black Widow! Get her!" he shouted to the troop of Hydra guards that was following him.

The guards rushed down the corridor at her. Sensible clerks and scientists rushed away, into the safety of side rooms.

"Change of plans, Rogers," Natasha calmly said into her comm. She flung her eyeglasses into the face of the fastest guard and kicked him in the groin. "I'm providing the distraction," she said, slipping sideways to dodge another guard, then hooking a foot around his ankle, so he sprawled headlong and bowled over another guard coming the other way. "I ran into former Agent Bowlez and a few of his friends."

"Make sure to say 'Hi' for me," Steve answered. "Probably explains why the field is a little thin over here." Over the comm, Natasha heard the clang of Steve's shield caroming off walls and helmets.

That inspired her to fling her clipboard like a Frisbee, ricocheting it off two Hydra skulls, as she said, "But you can handle it, right?"

"A dozen guards? Sure."

"I meant the computer download," she corrected. She leaped in the air and landed on the shoulders of a guard with an automatic rifle. She dug her knees under his chin and back-flipped off, snapping his neck.

"Oh," she heard Steve say hesitantly. Then he finished with more certainty, "Yes, of course I can. I've had a good teacher."

"All right. Gotta go. My dance card is getting full," Natasha said, as a new group rounded a corner.

"Save a dance for me," Steve answered. "Out."

Natasha had been focused on drawing out the fight to make a distraction, but the crowd was getting too large. She drew her pistol and fired with precision, each bullet dropping a man even if it didn't kill him. But there were too many enemies now and the quarters were too close. The gun was knocked form her hand.

"Take her alive!" Bowlez shouted. He'd been hanging back, letting his men tire Natasha out before he made his move. He drew a long knife from a sheath. He'd always loved his knife, which is why his codename had been Cutter.

Black Widow spun, kicking, punching, elbowing. Men went down, kneecaps broken, larynxes crushed, noses smashed. Then she stood in a clear space, panting slightly, but ready for more. She aimed a fierce look at Bowlez. "You finished hiding?" she scoffed.

"Now you're mine," Cutter said smugly. His men stepped back to give him room. Bowlez flicked the knife back and forth, trying to distract Natasha with flashes of light. The experienced agent just smirked at him.

"Let's dance," she said.

They began to circle each other. "Don't forget, I beat you in sparring," he said cockily.

"Don't forget, I was recuperating from two broken bones and a bullet wound at the time," Natasha replied, grinning just as cockily. "Better hurry up, I'm getting my second wind," Natasha taunted, implying Cutter was a coward for letting his men tire her out. She mimed wiping an imaginary bead of sweat from her brow.

Cutter's lip curled and he lunged forward, knife aimed at Natasha's breast. She was ready. She read his intention in his eyes and his foot stance. As he moved, she spun away, intending to get behind him. Her timing was perfect and Cutter's blade would have missed her by a full inch, except Cutter thumbed a stud on his hilt and the knife grew two inches.

Quick and lithe as a cat, Natasha bowed her body, bending away from the longer blade. Instead of digging deep into her flesh the tip of the knife just scored her side, the razor-sharp blade parting the fibers of her Hydra jacket with hardly a tug.

Graceful as a ballerina, Black Widow competed her pirouette and, fierce as a tiger, she jumped onto her enemy's back.

"Is that a trick knife, or is it just glad to see me?" Natasha hissed in Cutter's ear. She jammed her wrist against the back of his neck and let loose with the Widow's Bite that she had been saving just for Bowlez.

The electric current made the Hydra agent's muscles jitter, like some bizarre dance, then he sprawled on the floor, sightless eyes staring at the ceiling.

His men were shocked. Natasha stared them down. "Who's next?" she growled. But they were interrupted before they could start.

Pounding boots sounded thunderous in the hallway. Natasha heard the familiar clang of Cap's shield meeting military helmets, then bodies began to fly. She saw Cap barreling toward her. He was moving like a bullet train with his shield the cowcatcher that smashed guards out of his way.

"Gangway!" Steve called. Without pausing a step, he scooped Natasha up bridal style, tucking her between his shield and his body.

"What the hell, Rogers!" she yelled crossly. "I can walk!"

"Too slow. No time," Steve said, not even panting. "They've started the self-destruct."

As they tore down the corridor toward the exit, Natasha caught glimpses into the rooms they passed. Scientists and clerks were trying to go about their business, though distracted by the sounds of violence from the hallway. No klaxon was sounding. No red lights flashed to alert the staff that the building was about to blow. Guards were still running in, responding to Cutter's intruder call.

"There's no alarm! Those bastards!" Natasha exclaimed, referring to the people in charge. Not that she thought anyone who worked for Hydra was an innocent civilian, but refusing to warn your own people was pretty cold.

"Yeah," Steve agreed. "Won't do the bigwigs any good. Their escape helicopter is missing a rotor — and a tail. And the door of the executive offices might be jammed — it got a little bent," he added thoughtfully.

Looking over Steve's shoulder, Natasha saw guards bringing up a machine gun to aim at Steve's unprotected back.

She began to scream in a high-pitched, carrying voice. "Self-destruct! Oh my god! They've started the self-destruct. Everybody run!"

Apparently the staff had no trouble believing that their leaders would abandon them. The civilians poured out of the offices and ran toward the exit, trampling the guards and blocking their view.

Guards at the exit got off a few shots, not caring who got in their way. Bullets ricocheted off Cap's shield. A scientist screamed and fell. Two people stepped on him in their haste to flee, but another hauled him to his feet dragged him on. Over Steve's shoulder, Natasha saw an angry female clerk drop a guard, swinging a clipboard to his face.

"That's three for the clipboards," Natasha muttered.

Steve and his passenger merged with the crowd that poured out of the exit into the winter landscape. Most of the people ran along the road toward the town, but Steve swerved toward the snowy woods.

"That's a cliff!" Natasha protested.

"Not quite. It's just a really steep slope," Steve countered. "Hang on!"

Clutched in the arms of the super soldier, Natasha hardly had any choice. She curled herself into a tight ball in the center of the shield as Steve launched himself at full speed off the lip of the snow-covered slope.

He belly flopped on the shield. His powerful arms prevented him from landing fully on Natasha, but his impact still drove the breath from her in an undignified squeak.

They slid down the mountainside at breathtaking speed. The odd properties of vibranium made it nearly frictionless. They went faster than fast.

* * *

Steve adjusted his position, momentarily making the shield spin wildly like the teacup ride at Disneyland. Cap ended up braced on his elbows and knees, crouched above Natasha's curled figure. Steve's feet were up in the air and his fingers clutched the forward rim of the shield-sled.

He dragged one toe and shifted his weight to bring the spin under control and then ducked one shoulder to send the shield careening to the right down the precipitous slope.

A cracking boom sent rubble soaring skyward as the Hydra countdown reached its conclusion. The pressure wave caused an avalanche of snow and shattered trees. The debris hurtled down the slope toward the Avengers, but they did not relinquish their head start. Cap sideslipped out of danger, then pointed his toboggan downslope, toward the valley floor.

Natasha heard her companion laugh. She looked up and saw a sparkle in his eyes and a smile on his normally solemn face.

"How long have you wanted to do this?" she accused.

Steve laughed exuberantly. "Since I saw some kids using snow saucers last winter," he confessed.

Natasha smiled at his enjoyment, but then they bounced over a small rise and she saw his face change. "Oh oh," he said.

She looked ahead and a rocky outcrop, boulders strewn about a jagged drop. At the speed they were going, they couldn't steer through the gaps and they'd never stop in time. Steve's eyes narrowed.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times. The management is not responsible for mangled fingers or missing toes," Steve recited quickly. (Really, he'd been hanging around Tony way too much.)

"Steve!"

"Trust me!" Steve said. He curled his fingers inside the rim and drove the shield right at one of the boulders. The vibranium disk rebounded — that's what it did. With some judicious leaning, Steve aimed it at another rock, which sent the shield spinning into another boulder.

Like a master billiard player, Steve played the caroms, getting them through the field of rocks with all body parts intact, though Natasha's head was spinning and her ears were ringing.

Past the boulders was a wide, treeless incline that grew gradually shallower as they approached the valley floor. Steve saw they were nearing a road. Lurching left, he sent the shield into a spin to kill its forward momentum. He dragged his booted toes, sending a rooster tail of snow flying in all directions. They finally whirled to a halt.

Laughing like a kid, Steve stood, rock solid despite all the spinning. He helped Natasha up, gripping her arm when she staggered. Her world seemed to spin, which was only to be expected, but the dizziness faded into a frightening weakness. She stumbled and would have fallen if Steve hadn't caught her around the waist. She hissed in pain. Steve pulled his hand away, apologizing, until he saw the red stain on his fingers.

"You're hurt! You should have said something," he chided. "How bad is it?"

"It's not … He hardly touched me," Natasha protested. But as she moved, she realized her whole side burned. She'd hardly felt the razor sharp knife slice her flesh, and she'd been too pumped with adrenalin to notice the pain since then, but now she could feel a long slit in her Hydra uniform, though the navy jacket hid the stain.

"We need to find shelter," Steve decided. "There's no way we're making it to the pickup point. Can you walk?"

Natasha said she could, though her legs seemed wobbly. Steve draped his jacket over her shoulders and put his arm around her, then dragged the shield behind him tied to a strap. He thought maybe they could pass as a couple out for a day of sledding and snuggling. In any case, they didn't run into anyone.

"At least we destroyed the complex," Natasha said. "But I'm sorry we didn't get the information out of the computer."

"I got it."

Natasha raised her eyebrows. "There wasn't time for a download," she protested.

"Five finger download," Steve answered. (Too much time around Clint, as well.)

He opened the leather pouch at his side and showed Natasha the computer drive inside. Five indentations in the plastic around it showed the Super Soldier had shoved his hand into the computer and ripped out the drive.

Natasha blinked at it, but just said, "Are you sure it's the right one?"

"The technicians ran to this computer when the leader yelled 'Destroy the information, Wipe it!'"

"Wipe it" had been the wrong words to use, ever since Steve had read the files on the Winter Soldier.

"That was a bad move on his part," Natasha said.

"He lived to regret it," Steve said, rubbing his knuckles absently.

"But probably not for long," Natasha commented, which needed no reply. They went on in silence for a while, keeping an eye out for trouble, but seeing no one.

"You'd think there would be more people around," Steve commented.

"After that big bang on the hill, everyone's taken cover," she replied. She pointed with her chin toward a cabin half-hidden in a copse. "There's a 'for sale' sign. Maybe it's empty."

Steve scouted ahead and decided it was uninhabited, and had been for a while, judging by the snow drifted against the front door. He started to break a window, but Natasha stopped him. "You'll let in the cold air," she chided.

The lock was large, old-fashioned and childishly easy to pick. Steve scooped Natasha into his arms and jumped over the threshold, leaving the drift intact. When his friend rolled her eyes at him, he set her down. He pulled a homing beacon out of a pocket, pushed the button and held it until the light flashed green, then he clicked it rapidly three times, before deactivating it. Jarvis would have pinpointed the coordinates and the Avengers would know that one of them was hurt.

"Help is on the way."

"Good." Natasha sounded tired.

"Think we can afford a fire?" he asked. He could manage without, but the wounded woman needed the warmth.

"I think so. You'll hear anyone coming after us. You have ears like a beagle."

"Hilarious," Steve answered. He began searching the cabin, bringing back an armful of wood. "There's not much here. I found one moth-eaten blanket. A canister of salt in the cupboard. Some flour. A few staples like that. No first aid gear, no water."

"We always have snow," Natasha replied, starting to shrug but thinking better of it. After resting a few moments while watching Steve laid the fire, Natasha began to undress. There was a bookshelf between her and Steve to protect his modesty. Nudity didn't bother her — heck, it was part of the job — but she hated to offend her friend's old-fashioned sensibilities. She unbuttoned the jacket and slipped it off, seeing the gaping slash in its side, but the shell top underneath defeated her. When she tried to raise her hands above her head, her side stung and she could feel the warmth of fresh blood.

"Steve, I need help," she confessed.

Steve left the infant fire and knelt in front of his partner. She offered her knife, hilt first. "I can't raise my hands. You'll have to cut it off. All of it. Think your heart can handle it, old man?" Her eyebrow quirked up in a question.

"I promise to respect you in the morning, Natasha." He ignored the knife and simply ripped the blouse from hem to neck. The blouse came off and the bra fell with it. The blade had sliced through its side and one strap.

"Sorry," Natasha apologized, pressing her right hand across her bare breasts. The gesture was as much to stop her wounded flesh from moving as it was to cover herself.

Cap was all business, examining the wound. He asked Natasha to shift over, so the firelight fell on her injured side. The cut ran from near the tip of her breast around her side and fading to just a scratch on her shoulder blade.

Because she had spun away from Cutter, the wound was shallow. The worst part was about a quarter-inch deep on the swell of her breast and just above her ribs. It oozed blood every time she moved. Her sleeveless blouse and bra were soaked with gore.

Apologizing for his familiarity, Steve pressed his warm hand over the wound to slow the bleeding. He fumbled in a belt pocket and pulled out a small tube of Super Glue.

Natasha raised her eyebrows. "Old dogs can learn new tricks."

"Still hilarious," Steve said dryly.

When he struggled to open it one-handed, Natasha took it and prepped it, then handed it back.

"Try not to glue your fingers to my breast," she said, trying to make Steve blush.

But he was in full Captain America mission mindset, focused on treating a comrade's wound. That didn't mean he didn't hear what she said.

"Stark would love that. He'd post it everywhere," he commented, as he tacked the long slit closed, paying closest attention to the deepest sections.

"Success," he said, wiggling his unglued fingers in front of her face.

He pulled a couple of sterile pads and rolls of gauze out of his first aid pouch. "Now, let's wrap you up," he said. "Then we can warm up."

"Yes, please," the topless woman said. She was close to the hearth, but the air was cold and it was a small fire.

* * *

Thor, Iron Man, Hawkeye and Bruce Banner cautiously advanced toward the small cabin pinpointed by the beacon. They knew at least one of their friends was injured, so they worried when neither Black Widow nor Captain America challenged their approach.

"How many inside, J?" Tony asked.

"Two," the AI reported, showing a heat signature of two people lying down, the smaller on top of the larger, which made Tony raise his eyebrows. "They are not moving, but vital signs are within normal parameters for Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff — though they are in such close proximity to each other and to the fireplace that it is difficult to separate body temperatures."

"Close proximity?" Bruce asked.

"Such close proximity we may have interrupted something interesting," Tony said, popping open his face plate so the others could see him waggle his eyebrows salaciously.

Clint gave him a skeptical look and eased the door open with a spy's deeply ingrained quietness.

Sure enough, Steve was lying on a ratty blanket on the cold floor. Natasha lay on top of him, with Steve's jacket draped over her torso. Her cheek was pillowed on his chest. The room was cold and they were lying as close to the embers of the fire as was safe.

Natasha's jacket and blouse were discarded to the side along with her bra. The Avengers could see her shoulders were bare and so were Steve's.

"Jealous, birdbrain?" Tony asked quietly. "Looks like Captain Perfect got your woman."

Clint regarded him as if he was crazy. "My woman? I don't own her, Stark. She can sleep with whoever she wants."

"Not when you guys are making so much noise," Steve said without opening his eyes. His enhanced hearing had identified his teammates before they ever entered the cabin.

"And not when you're rumbling in my ear," Natasha grumbled to Steve.

"You ready to get up?" Steve asked.

"No, I'm nice and warm here, but I guess we'd better."

"Bruce, give me a hand here. Natasha's hurt," Steve said. He began to sit up, carefully sitting Nat up at the same time. The coat began to slip off and Tony saw more bare skin.

Panicked, he turned away. He knew Natasha would kill him if he disrespected her — maybe literally kill him. Plus, he'd never ogled an unwilling woman, not even at his worst womanizing.

Thor also turned away to give his teammate privacy. Bruce and Clint, who had tended Natasha's wounds before, stepped forward to help her.

Tony was nervous, worried for his friend. As usual, when he was anxious, his mouth ran away with him.

"It's no fair, everyone else gets to look. Why not me?"

A pained noise from Natasha made Tony half-turn, but Thor clamped his hand on his teammate's head and prevented him from moving.

"We do not need to see, Anthony," he chided.

"Let him look, Thor. It doesn't bother me," Natasha said.

* * *

With permission, Tony turned and saw nothing he couldn't see around the swimming pool. Steve was bare-chested, but Natasha's torso was wound with enough gauze to form a sleeveless top. She smirked at Tony, while she described her injury to Bruce.

"Steve glued it together and then put the gauze on so I wouldn't jiggle."

"But the jiggling is the best part," Tony protested, his mouth still on automatic.

Steve leveled a disapproving glare at the billionaire, but Clint shrugged. "You know he's right," the archer said. "All guys love the jiggling."

"I would punch both of you if that wouldn't tear the wound open," Natasha said, but not as if she was actually angry. (She'd made use of the jiggling far too many times to deny the way it distracted men.)

Bruce was gently palpating the wound. "I don't see any fresh blood and I don't feel any heat, as if it was infected. I think I'll leave this alone until we get back to the infirmary."

"Suits me," Black Widow said.

She refused to be carried, but did continue to wear Cap's jacket as they walked to the quinjet. Steve put his long-sleeved shirt back on and wrapped the ratty blanket around himself for the short trip.

Steve and Tony took the controls, leaving Clint free to help Natasha. She gingerly leaned back against her longtime partner and sighed with relief when he wrapped his arms around her.

"So, how do I compare to a super soldier?" Clint joked.

"Steve is warmer, but you're more comfortable," Natasha told him.

"So, Stevie," Tony said casually, as the quinjet started for home. "If you wrapped up Natasha, then you saw her in all her glory. Share with the class."

Steve glared at Tony, while everyone else simultaneously rolled his or her eyes at Stark's teasing. And they all began to relax, feeling things were getting back to normal.

"What do you want, Tony? An inch-by-inch description?" Steve asked.

"Why not? You're an artist. Paint me a picture," Tony suggested.

Funny thing was, Steve had been musing on a picture: Natasha from the back, bare to the waist, with the fire behind her. She had scars on her back, including a big star-shaped one from the exit wound when the Winter Soldier shot through her, but the unyielding courage in her face turned each blemish into a badge of honor. Steve didn't know if he had the talent to capture her expression, but his fingers itched to try. And that would be a painting for Natasha, not for Tony.

So he answered his copilot with conviction, "All I can tell you, Tony, is that every inch of Natasha is as beautiful as what she lets us see."

Tony pouted in disappointment. Thor and Bruce chuckled. Natasha shook her head, thinking of the scars that required extensive makeup when she went undercover.

"He's such a liar," she said fondly.

Clint gave a breathy laugh in her ear. "No, he's telling the truth as he sees it — as I see it, too, Tasha. You're the one who always says, Steve is a terrible liar."

**4\. Steve's shield as a toboggan.**

* * *

_A/N: Four hours until I see Age of Ultron!_


	5. Blood

_A/N: I was so excited when I saw AoU, because it makes this story canon, or as much canon as any fanfic is. Between CA: TWS and Avengers: AoU, the Avengers worked together to take down Hydra bases and, in my stories, any other high-powered threat. For a year, the original Avengers worked together as a team. It's canon. FINALLY! Oh, and no spoilers here. The story was all done before I saw AoU._

* * *

**5\. Blood**

He called himself The Sorcerer. (Yes, he talked in capital letters.) Steve didn't know whether he was a mutant, a science project, an alien or even a genuine sorcerer, but the man in the blue robe with silver stars had the power of levitating inanimate objects. He didn't seem to be able to affect living creatures directly, but he could uproot a tree by grabbing the dirt around its base — and then throw it at the heroes who were trying to stop him!

"Duck!" Cap shouted, diving out of the way of the mighty ash tree hurtling toward him.

The Hulk roared scornfully. Standing fast, he caught the tree and threw it back at The Sorcerer, who was standing on a boulder hovering 10 feet in the air. The Sorcerer and his boulder zipped to one side. He laughed derisively, then raised his hands to the sky. Hundreds of rocks and chunks of concrete of various sizes wrenched themselves free of the construction site and rose into the air. They floated for a moment, then The Sorcerer gestured toward the two Avengers and the rocks rushed at them.

Hulk swatted futilely at the barrage, knocking some aside, but more pelted him furiously. Hulk raised his brawny arms to protect his head.

Cap ducked behind his shield, braced against the pounding, but one skull-sized rock ricocheted off a bulldozer and struck Steve on the thigh. His femur cracked. The edges of the break slipped apart and Steve went down with a cry of agony.

Distracted by his fallen friend, Hulk dropped his guard and was hit in the forehead by a pointed chunk of concrete. Blood drops flew, spattering the ground, hissing and foaming like acid.

Hulk screamed, a panicked sound like Cap had never heard from him. Hulk scooped Cap under one arm and fled, pursued by The Sorcerer's scornful laughter.

"Hulk, stop! Stop!" Cap pleaded. But the Hulk ran until he found a hiding place under the bleachers of the evacuated college's football field.

Out of sight of The Sorcerer for the moment, Hulk set Steve down gently, then huddled, knees drawn up. His hand trembled as he wiped the blood of his forehead.

Hulk was actually shivering at the sight of the blood on his fingers.

Cap had never realized that Hulk was afraid of the sight of blood, but it made sense. Banner was afraid of the blood — corrosive, radioactive, poisonous. His wary attitude had become something more fearful in the simpler-minded Hulk.

Seeing the green liquid, Hulk made a distressed moan and shook it off his fingers. Despite the agony it caused him, Steve rolled out of the way of the drops. One speck touched his hand and it burned, blistering instantly. Steve rubbed it in the dirt until the pain stopped, but was left with a quarter-sized blister. Hulk moaned again, maybe an apology, and wiped his fingers carefully in the dirt.

All this area would have to be decontaminated, Steve thought through a haze of pain. At least Hulk's wound was rapidly closing. It had already stopped bleeding, but Hulk rocked back and forth in distress.

Anyone else, Steve would have tried to calm down, but if Hulk turned back into Bruce, they were both dead.

Steve heard police sirens approaching and cursed. He glimpsed a formation of military helicopters flying over the stadium and cursed again. He pictured all those officers firing at The Sorcerer, supplying bullets for him to fling back at them.

But Steve couldn't even stand on his compound fracture.

"Hulk, we have to do something," Steve said in his best Cap voice. "I can't stand. It's up to you. You're the only one who can beat The Sorcerer."

But Hulk shook his blood-streaked head. "No. Can't bleed. Bleeding bad."

It was bad, Steve had to admit. Hulk's blood would contaminate everything it touched. Hulk's skin was thick and hard to puncture, but his scalp was thin in comparison and split more easily. If Steve could find a way to protect Hulk's head …

Captain America began to smile, then he carefully began to explain to the Hulk. Hulk shook his head at first, but warmed up to the idea of getting revenge on the man who'd made him bleed. Hulk bared his teeth in a nasty grin.

* * *

The Sorcerer faced an array of police and military troops. The commander shouted orders for The Sorcerer to surrender, but he just laughed and raised his hands, prepared to catch their bullets.

"Wait! Hold your fire!" Captain America shouted. The command in his voice halted everyone, even though he was being carried like a baby by the Hulk, who … Well, no one could quite believe what he or she was seeing. Even The Sorcerer stared.

Hulk set Cap next to an ambulance. Cap patted his shoulder. "You can do it, buddy," he said.

Hulk snorted agreement and advanced on The Sorcerer.

"Hold your fire!" Cap shouted again. "The Sorcerer can use your own rounds against you. Let Hulk handle it."

"Hulk?" The Sorcerer scoffed. "I made Hulkie run!" he bragged.

"Not this time," Cap answered, as paramedics carefully lifted him onto a gurney.

"You think this makes a difference? This … hat?" The Sorcerer laughed. He gestured at Cap's shield, tied to Hulk's head like a sunhat.

Hulk ran at his enemy. The Sorcerer soared up, drawing a multitude of rocks with him, then he threw them at Hulk. The rocks showered Hulk, clanging off the shield, bouncing off his broad shoulders.

"It's not a hat," Cap said so everyone could hear. "It's a helmet!"

The bombardment left the Hulk bruised but not bleeding. He roared with triumph, wrenched a sapling out of the ground and hurled it at The Sorcerer like a javelin.

The Sorcerer tried to dodge, but he'd let the Hulk get too close. He tried to catch the soil at the roots, but momentum made the not-dead branches sweep around like a baseball bat to smack the boulder out from under The Sorcerer's feet. The man fell. He crashed to the ground at Hulk's feet and hit his head on one of the rocks he'd thrown at the Hulk.

A brave officer ran to check the fallen man, asking Hulk's permission first. Hulk turned away. The officer called the paramedics over. One paramedic left Cap to check the villain. He shook his head over The Sorcerer.

"That's a bad head wound. I don't know if he'll survive," the paramedic said, but began to stabilize him for transport.

"It might be just as well," Steve said with resignation. "I don't know how you'd ever keep him in prison." Lying prone on a gurney, Steve smiled at Hulk who removed his helmet and handed it to Cap.

"It worked," Steve said.

"Good hat," Hulk agreed. He flicked a finger at the shield, making it ring. "But noisy."

Steve chuckled.

**5\. Cap's shield as a helmet.**


	6. Weapon, part 1

_A/N: This is the final chapter in Cap s Shield: Versatile in Vibranium and it is a Five Plus One in itself: Five times Cap threw his shield and one time it threw him._

* * *

**6\. Weapon (part 1)**

**One**

"Monroe Building 9 tonight."

The message intercepted was cryptic, too cryptic for the police to take action, since Black Widow couldn't explain where she obtained the information about the homegrown, anti-government terrorists.

She trusted her source, though even he didn't know whether the message referred to an attack or simply a meeting. In either case, Natasha intended to be there. But there were too many Monroe buildings that were possibilities, so she needed proxies. She picked the three most likely targets and, not allowing argument, sent Ironman to the farthest one in Washington D.C. She assigned Captain America to check the one in New York City and she took Hawkeye to investigate the Pennsylvania Veteran's Hospital, which she considered the prime target of the group called the Crimson Torch, which hated the U.S., military.

But she was wrong.

"I've got activity outside the building," Cap reported on the comms at a quarter to nine. He described a dark van with three men guarding it.

"Might be deliveries," Clint suggested. He and Natasha had found no suspicious activity at the hospital. He was beginning to hope the message referred to a meeting at some innocuous Monroe Building.

"Deliverymen with automatic rifles and a box full of detonators?" the sharp-eyed super soldier asked.

Clint and Natasha immediately began to run back to their quinjet.

With the painstaking precision of a scientist, Tony finished scanning the D.C. building that was his responsibility, but found only two patrolling security guards and one at the desk. He pirouetted in midair and shot back toward New York City. He knew that neither he nor the agents could reach Cap before the 9 p.m. deadline passed, but he poured power into his boot jets regardless.

With the clock ticking, Cap was not willing to wait for backup. He launched his attack. He threw with nicely judged speed, clipping one terrorist in his helmeted head and smashing a second man into the building. As the men collapsed, the shield rebounded just a bit, lodging in a bush at a convenient height.

While the shield did its work, Steve pounced on the third man, catching him by the throat and slamming him into the back of the van.

"What are you doing here?" Steve demanded. "How many men are there?"

The terrorist sneered. "The Crimson Torch will burn away this corrupt government!" he proclaimed. "The weak must bow to the strong. That's the law of nature!"

Steve shook his head at the anarchist philosophy. Government was responsible for protecting the weak from the strong and the powerless from the powerful. It didn't always work right, but nothing was perfect.

"That's just an excuse to be a bully," Cap scoffed. Holding the terrorist by the throat, he lifted the man off his feet and dangled him. Kicking, choking, gasping, the terrorist clawed futilely at Cap's gloved hand. "If the strong must rule, shouldn't I be your king?" Steve said sarcastically. "Or, better, the Hulk! The Hulk would be the perfect leader for your mindless philosophy."

Cap tossed the man to the ground in disgust. The terrorist growled and ran at Cap, who braced himself for the charge; but at the last second, the man swerved and deliberately ran headfirst into the back of the van, knocking himself out so Cap couldn't question him any more.

"At least he had the courage of his convictions," Steve said, angry with himself for being manipulated. He zip tied the three unconscious terrorists to a tree with Starkties that would only release to the fingerprint of one of the Avengers.

That done, Steve opened the back of the van and scratched his head.

"I don't know what I'm looking at, guys," Steve reported to the other Avengers. "There's a box of detonators, a lot of tools and a roll of bright green cable on a drum."

"Cable?" Tony asked.

"What's it look like?" Clint said.

Steve took a picture and sent it, as he said, "It's bright green and labeled Cordex." Steve could hear a hiss of indrawn breath over the comms but couldn't tell which of his comrades reacted, or maybe it was all of them.

"That's det cord, Cap," Clint said tightly.

Det cord. Detonating cord. Steve had studied the myriad types of explosives and weapons that had been developed in the 70 years he was on ice, but the pictures of det cord he'd seen had been striped and by a different company.

"Det cord, that's mostly used for construction, isn't it?" Steve asked.

"And demolition," Tony said urgently, as he tried to channel more power to his jets. "Steve, I think they're planning to make the building collapse."

* * *

** Two **

Tony quickly explained that Cap's Monroe Building housed the servers for Veterans Affairs. If those computers were destroyed, it would delay benefits for injured veterans, widows and orphans. The Crimson Torch was taking out its hatred for the military on the most innocent victims.

Then Jarvis brought up the results of a search. "More bad news," Tony told the others. "They have a major update scheduled for tonight. They're not just updating software; they're replacing a couple of dinosaur computers with new Starktech. There will be engineers and technicians and supervisors and guys answering the phones to explain why people can't access their records tonight. There are about 100 people there right now."

Steve could see that most of the building was dark, but lights were on throughout the top two floors. And the terrorists planned to collapse the building with all those people in it. Steve's jaw clenched in angry determination.

He saw movement inside the lobby of the glass-fronted building. Four men wearing camouflage and carrying rifles over their shoulders trotted out of various hallways. In a moment, an elevator opened to disgorge three more. One of the men bawled orders and the others formed up in two columns.

For people who hate the military, they sure act like combat troops, Steve thought. But then, almost all of them were disgraced military or military wannabes turned down for psychiatric reasons.

The two men at the heads of the columns swung the front doors wide and were met by Steve's flying shield. It knocked them backwards and they took down their comrades like dominos. At the rear and to the side, the squad commander was the only one who escaped. But Steve was on him in an instant. Scooping up his shield and trampling across the dazed and groaning fallen terrorists, Steve charged the squad leader. The man pulled something from his pocket and Steve knocked it away, seeing it was a cellphone and not a gun. Steve slammed the squad leader back against the wall.

"What are you up to?" Steve demanded.

The squad leader had the nerve to smirk. "You can make me talk, Captain, or you can try to save the building. You don't have time for both. Really, you don't have time for either," he mocked.

He was right. Steve grabbed him by the front of the shirt and heaved him into the back of the van. Cap yanked out the explosives and crammed the dazed terrorists into the back two by two, then he smashed in the back door so it couldn't be opened. At super soldier speed, it took a bare minute, but Steve keenly felt the loss of that minute. There were only 12 minutes left to the deadline in the message.

"Where do I start?" Steve demanded over the comms. "There's no time to search the whole building."

He flipped the fire alarm, warning the VA people to evacuate, though there was little hope they could all escape before the deadline, which was why he had to stop the explosives.

"Jarvis is scanning the city building records," Tony answered, as he raced headlong toward New York. "If they want to collapse the whole building, the weakest part is the first level of the parking garage."

Steve was already running down the stairs.

* * *

** Three &amp; four**

He knew Tony had pegged it as soon as he opened the door. The nearest pillar was wrapped with bright green det cord and decorated with a detonator.

Cap sent a picture to the other Avengers.

"It's a simple set up," Clint said. "Det cord is safe stuff to work with. It won't go off until the detonator explodes. You need to rip the detonators off the det cord. Separate them."

"It doesn't matter if the detonators explode," Tony contributed. "By themselves, they don't have enough power to damage the building, but you have to separate them from the det cord," he said urgently.

Steve ran around the perimeter of the parking garage, wrenching detonators off the pillars and tossing them aside. Each hand-set detonator showed a countdown. They weren't in unison, but they were close enough. Each second that ticked by showed Cap that even his enhanced speed was too slow. He needed to speed up this process, so he chopped at the detonators with his shield, studying the angle of force needed to separate them cleanly. When he got to a place empty of cars, he could see about a third of the way around the garage. He threw and the shield ricocheted from pillar to wall to pillar to ceiling to pillar again, ripping detonators cleanly from the cord, as Steve cut across the curve tearing off a couple more detonators on the far side, before catching the shield on the fly and flinging it immediately farther on.

But every detonator mocked him with a countdown showing how little time he had left.

"Cap," Tony called.

"One second," Steve said, throwing another detonator aside and grabbing his shield out of the air. "Tony, I've just about cleared the perimeter," Steve reported, as he came in sight of his starting point. "But there's not time to search the whole garage," he added desperately.

"Get to the center," Tony said urgently. "Jarvis found a permit request to retrofit the garage because of a construction error. There are concerns that damage to the three central pillars could cause the building to collapse inward. There's evidence that the request has been hacked, so the Torchies could know about that weakness."

* * *

**Five **

Steve was running, dodging pillars and cars. He had less than a minute. Then he reached the center section and his heart sank. There were three pillars in a tight triangle and three people bound to the pillars with det cord and metal straps.

Maxim was a security guard. Blood trickled from a small cut on his forehead. He was unconscious, slumped over the detonator fixed to his chest.

Don was a low level broker who had been working late and was grabbed on his way to his car. He was frightened but trying to remain calm, though his eyes were a little crossed as he tried to see the detonator on his forehead.

Anissa was a young lawyer who had returned to get something from her office after a baby shower at a nearby restaurant. She wept quietly, her eyes on the detonator perched on the barely perceptible swell of her pregnant abdomen.

The eyes of the two conscious hostages brightened when they saw Captain America, but he wasn't as happy. He didn't have time to grab all three detonators by hand and he couldn't ricochet his shield off a man's forehead or a pregnant woman's belly.

His enhanced mind calculated at Jarvis speed. He could only reach one and it would have to be the unconscious guard. The shield couldn't slice off the detonator on his chest without taking the man's head off.

Anissa and Don fastened hopeful eyes on the hero, though they could see mere seconds on each other's detonators.

"Stand up straight, close your eyes and trust me," Steve ordered.

Behind him, in the cavernous garage, the earliest detonators began to pop.

"Don't flinch!" he shouted, when the sound made both captives jump.

Cap launched himself forward as he flung his shield to one side. It clanged off the ceiling, then a pillar, sweeping sideways across the woman, tearing the detonator off and sending it spinning away. The shield rebounded off a pillar, then off the floor and up to skim the man's forehead, ruffling his bangs, and tossing the detonator far away.

At the same moment, Steve's gloved hand closed on the guard's detonator. As the timer blinked on 1, Steve ripped it off and, in one motion, flung it into a corner, far from any det cord.

Cap slid to a halt at the woman's feet, down on one knee, as if he was going to propose. He put out his hand to stop the shield as it slid back along the floor. He rested his hand on the dome, taking one moment to breathe, listening to the detonators crackle like fireworks all around the garage.

"I never thought one man could do that," a calm voice said.

* * *

**Plus 1 **

A man walked out of the shadows. Steve tensed to attack, but the newcomer said, "I wouldn't." He wore det cord wrapped around his body and held a deadman's switch in one outstretched hand.

"At this distance, you might survive the blast, but the little lady and her baby won't," the terrorist said, as he stopped in front of Don and Anissa, just out of Steve's reach.

"Who are you?" Steve asked.

"I am the leader of the Crimson Torch. I am No Man and Every Man!" the terrorist proclaimed. "You can call me Noman," he said with the twitch of an ironic smile.

"What do you want?"

"To finish what my people started." Noman had the light of a fanatic in his eyes. He said when he heard the fire alarm, he'd been making sure the VA people wouldn't be able to escape. He'd gone to make sure nothing prevented the destruction of the building. He was willing to sacrifice his life for the cause.

"Blowing up yourself won't bring down the building," Steve said reasonably.

"It will when I connect my det cord to this." He reached for the cord that wove the three pillars together and pulled one end loose. The coil sagged a bit, but remained in place around the pillars and the hostages.

Resting on the dome of his shield, Steve's fingers twitched.

"None of that," Noman ordered. "Push it away."

Steve gave the upturned shield a shove. It skittered away, angling past the terrorist. The two hostages watched it slide smoothly away, but Noman scorned their attempt to distract him. He refused to take his eyes off Cap, so he did not see the shield's prolonged slide.

The nearly frictionless vibranium skimmed across the smooth concrete floor with a hum that was lost in the rumble of the ventilation system. But Cap's enhanced hearing could detect it. Without taking his eyes off Noman, Steve tracked the shield's progress. It bumped a car tire, reversed course at a slight angle and glided back toward Noman, who was fumbling with one hand to attach the pillar det cord to his own. The hostages held their breath, as the shield moved closer … and closer … and then, with its momentum reduced to nearly nothing, it nudged Noman's foot.

Startled, he looked down.

Cap launched himself at Noman. With his left hand, he tore away the pillar det cord. With his right he snapped up his shield and used it to slam Noman to the ground, away from the hostages. The terrorist lost his grip on the deadman's switch and the bomb exploded. Partly muffled by the shield and the terrorist's shattered body, the blast threw Cap backwards, slamming him headfirst into the concrete pillar mere inches from the pregnant woman's knee.

She gave a muffled yelp, as Captain America collapsed boneless at her feet with blood gushing from his left leg.

**To be continued**

* * *

_A/N: I did not intend to leave this as a cliffhanger, but ff dot net is being exceptionally cranky today and this is as much as I've been able to upload in the time I have. The finale next week, I hope!_


	7. Weapon, part 2

_A/N: This is the final chapter (honest, really) in Cap's Shield: Versatile in Vibranium. This is the h/c part of Chapter 6._

* * *

**6\. Weapon, Part 2**

Attracted to the high ground as usual, Hawkeye moved catlike across the tops of the parked cars. He leaped gracefully from one roof to the next, making almost no noise. Slinking along in the shadows, Black Widow couldn't imagine how he moved so quietly in combat boots.

Clint came to an abrupt halt, signaling Natasha to stop. Clint straightened up, gazing into the open area ahead. "Well, that's something you don't see every day," he said, but his urgent rush forward belied his light words.

He leaped off the final SUV into the well-lighted, open area. To the hostages, it seemed as if he had appeared out of nowhere. They flinched back, until they recognized the archer rushing toward them and the injured man at their feet.

Even as he ran, Clint snapped photos of the scene, because no one was going to believe it without proof.

When Natasha cleared the last car, she broke into a run as well, spurred by sudden fear. And yet, in the back of her mind, she had to admit Clint was right. You didn't see this every day.

A fallen hero lay at the feet of a man and a woman who were bound to two concrete pillars with bright green det cord and metal straps. If that wasn't strange enough, the man was standing on Captain America's leg.

Don had toed off his shoes and planted his stocking feet on Cap's leg just above the knee, using his weight to put pressure on the wound. The woman had shuffled her feet to cradle Cap's head and prevent him from moving, which might have made his injuries worse.

It was all the bound and gagged hostages could do to help the man who had saved their lives.

They kept their eyes firmly on Cap, avoiding looking at the shattered remains of the terrorist just a few feet away. When Clint approached, Don gave him a pleading look, tipping his head toward the dead man. The archer nodded. He checked the man who was obviously dead, then covered him from sight with Cap's shield — which was already covered with gore.

Anissa sighed with relief, then looked a plea at Natasha before aiming her gaze back at unconscious Cap. Natasha sat cross-legged and shifted Steve's head to her lap while she ran her fingers over his skull and neck.

Clint couldn't cut the metal bands that fastened the hostages to the pillars, but he used the serrated edge of his combat knife to cut the plastic zip ties that held the gags in their mouths, then he quickly cut their wrists free, before he dropped by Don's feet to look at Cap's injured leg.

"I think you can get off him now," he suggested.

Don started to move, then an odd look crossed his face. "I don't think I can. I'm stuck."

He raised one foot and Clint saw the black sock was stuck to the wound. Well, not stuck exactly. The sole of the sock was embedded in the scab that had formed on the wound. Cap healed so fast, he had healed to the socks.

"I'll cut you loose," Clint decided. He had Don raise his feet to stretch out the socks, then Clint shaved the fabric as close to the leg as he could.

"If Cap wasn't so nice, he'd be downright creepy," Clint told Nat.

"I think I can beat your creepiness," Natasha replied. "Cap's got a depressed skull fracture. I can feel the bone shifting under my hands."

"C'mon, even Cap's bones don't set themselves," he said skeptically. The Avengers knew that from unfortunate previous experience.

"I don't think the bones are moving themselves," Natasha said. "I think the brain is … uh, rebounding into its normal shape and that's pushing the bone fragments back into place."

"Brains don't do that," Clint protested.

Natasha gave him a severe look.

"Right, we're talking about Captain America," Clint agreed. He checked Steve's pulse, which seemed surprisingly steady. Deciding he couldn't do any more for the wounded man, Clint began to investigate the hostages' bonds.

"Cap. Widow. Hawkeye. Can anyone hear me?" Ironman's voice came over the comms.

"Cap's out for the count," Clint replied. "But Widow and I can hear you."

"How bad?" Tony asked anxiously. He was kicking himself that he'd been so far away.

"If it was me, I'd be dead," Clint said. "But Cap seems to be healing OK. Where are you?"

"About 30 seconds out," Tony said. "I'll be with you in moments."

"Stark, you can't do anything for Cap right now. We need you to clear the rest of the building," Natasha said coolly. "In addition to the timed explosives, we had one suicide bomber with a det cord bomb vest. We need you to scan for anyone else in the building and for any more explosives."

"Roger," Tony said reluctantly. "The fire department's just arriving to answer the fire alarm. I'll tell them what's going on. And it looks like there are 103 people in the building, not counting the six of you grouped in the parking garage."

"No one evacuated?" Natasha said puzzled.

"The bomb guy said he trapped the VA staff," Don contributed.

"All right, I'll get them out and check for any hidden baddies," Tony said.

"When you know it's safe, send us paramedics and bring your lasers," Clint said. "I've got two hostages who are tied up with metal straps, like you use to secure a water heater in earthquake country. I don't have anything to cut them free."

Don and Anissa sighed in resignation. The security guard groaned. Tony acknowledged the instructions. And Steve's eyes opened.

He stared blankly at the ceiling, despite Natasha calling his name.

She patiently talked to him, figuring even a super soldier needed a few moments to recover from a dented skull.

On the other side of the pillars, she could hear Clint swearing as he tried to free the hostages.

Steve's eyes blinked and he started to turn his head toward the sound of Clint's voice.

"No, eyes front, soldier," Natasha ordered.

Steve obediently stopped turning but looked up at Natasha leaning over him.

"Natasha, why are you upside down?" he asked calmly. Then he assessed the scene — mostly ceiling of the parking garage. "Scratch that. Why am I lying on the floor?" he amended.

"The explosion threw you headfirst into a concrete column," Natasha explained. "You cracked your skull and I'm pretty sure you dislocated some vertebrae. I need you to lie still until we determine whether you damaged your spine."

"Unlikely," Steve said, sounding more like himself every minute.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because my left leg hurts like the devil," Steve answered.

"The explosion tore that up, too. But it's stopped bleeding now," Natasha said.

Clint came around the pillar to study Cap who was lying with his head in Natasha's lap.

"Every time I see you, you're cuddling with my bestie, Rogers," Clint said sternly.

Steve shrugged. "She's more cuddly than the average spider," he said.

Natasha rolled her eyes and threatened to punch them both.

Cap directed his gaze to his left. "Why are the hostages still tied up?"

Clint made a disgusted noise. "The terrorists bolted the metal straps to the concrete, then filled the bolts with putty. It's dry and hard and we're going to need tools, like Stark's laser cutter. We're waiting for Stark to clear the building, because I don't have the tools to cut them free," Clint explained.

"I do," Steve said. He extended a hand for Clint to help him up.

"You sure?" Clint asked doubtfully.

"Yes."

Hawkeye pulled Cap to his feet, steadying him when he wavered. Steve rotated his head and his neck bones cracked back into place with a sickening crunch that made everyone wince and the pregnant woman gag.

"Sorry," Steve apologized.

"They probably saved your life," Clint commented. "Don here applied pressure to your leg with his feet. Pretty quick thinking," Clint said in admiration. "And Anissa kept your head from rolling around, which could have caused more damage."

Steve thanked them sincerely and Natasha, too.

"You saved us first," Don pointed out.

Cap stood straighter and sounded more like Captain America. "Let's get you free." He reached for his shield. Remembering all the blood, Anissa winced and closed her eyes.

"Hold off for a second. We need to cover that body," Clint suggested. He looked back at the parked cars.

"That one on the end is mine," Don offered. "The Highlander. I've got a couple of beach towels and some cleaning supplies in there." In answer to a questioning look from Hawkeye, Don continued, "My sister and her boys were in town for a visit. My nephews are 3 and 5 and they made a god awful mess in my car."

"That benefits us," Clint said. "Where are the keys?"

Don shrugged. "They were in my hand when these terrorists knocked me out. I don't know where the keys went. Just break a window."

Hawkeye broke the window and took the beach towels, then he explored the back and found a bottle of spray cleaner, along with window cleaner, tire dressing, Turtle Wax and a box of clean rags. Don was busted as a clean freak.

Clint covered the terrorist's body with one towel, then cleaned and disinfected the shield with the other. He handed the shield to Cap, who seemed steadier on his feet by that time.

"A little less red on the white and blue," Clint said.

"Thanks." Steve slung the shield on his arm, hefted it a couple of times, then warned the others to cover their ears. He swung the shield back and forth, then struck with the edge of the shield. Once, twice, three times, the shield rang against the concrete pillars and neatly sliced the metal straps.

Steve winced. His head ached fiercely and the clanging noise didn't help.

Clint caught the still dazed guard. The other two hostages gratefully stepped away from their respective pillars. By common accord, they all moved away from Noman's body. They ended up with Don and Anissa sitting in Don's SUV, while the guard lay in back. Cap and Natasha sat on the floor, leaning against the vehicle and Clint perched on top, still on guard.

* * *

Tony found them chatting when he arrived with paramedics. Cap waved them off, directing them to the severely concussed guard. Tony was disappointed that he didn't even get to use his suit to free the prisoners.

"I could have stayed home," he complained. "You didn't need me at all."

"Well, I could really use a sandwich," Steve mused. "Or three." All that healing made him hungry.

"Ooh, yes, please," Anissa said. Growing a person made her constantly hungry, too.

"So you want me to take the most advanced personal combat suit in the world and make a deli run?" Tony said incredulously.

"Yes," Steve said.

"Please?" Anissa said, giving Tony a pleading look that the former playboy could not resist.

"Fine." Tony took everyone's orders and told Jarvis to transfer the information to Bernie's Deli.

"That's halfway across town," Clint pointed out, not arguing.

"Yes, but they know me there."

Stark blasted off.

* * *

A young man stood at the curb outside Bernie's Deli, holding a sturdy box.

"That for me?" joked a passing motorcyclist, as he waited for the light to change.

"No," the clerk looked up. "It's for him."

The biker gaped at Iron Man descending.

"Thanks, Chuck," Tony told the clerk.

"We didn't have any bananas, Mr. Stark," Chuck said, as he handed over the box. "But I ran over to the ice cream shop and got one for you."

"Excellent man. I've got a pregnant woman with a craving, so that banana is very important. Double the usual tip," Tony both promised the clerk and instructed Jarvis. Then he took off again and returned to his friends.

"Where should I put it?" Tony asked the others who were lounging around the vandalized SUV. The civilians were sitting inside and Clint had joined the other two Avengers on the floor. He flipped Cap's shield to create a bowl — a thoroughly scrubbed bowl — and gestured for Tony to deposit the Avengers' sandwiches there.

"Sure, why not," Tony said ironically. "Might as well get some use out of the thing."

**The End**

* * *

_A/N: I uploaded from my work computer. Went much faster this week!_


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